"The lion of House King's Landing, state your name." Rynar gazed warmly at the spirited young man before him.
"Apophis Breo!" He lifted his head proudly.
"Breo… Breo, that is a fine surname! Do not lose the honor attached to it!" Rynar nodded in encouragement. Fortunately, despite the passage of time, the bloodline of House King's Landing had remained unchanged. He silently thanked the accursed system for at least preserving that last shred of humanity.
"Apophis Breo? My gods! I can't believe the glory of King's Landing has truly been passed down!" Omsk stepped forward, lightly tapping the proud lion emblem on Apophis Breo's chest.
Apophis Breo smiled as he returned the gesture, tapping the emblem of light and shadow on Omsk's chest. "It is an honor to meet you, Hero of Light and Shadow! May I know your name?"
"Of course! You may call me Omsk. I am currently a Royal Consecrated Hero. If you ever need guidance in combat techniques, feel free to seek me out—I will share everything I know." Omsk nodded amiably.
"Greetings, man of King's Landing! I am Caslow, a Dragon Knight—Third Rank Wind Dragon Knight. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Caslow struck his chest lightly as a sign of respect. However, it was clear that his reverence was not for Apophis Breo himself, but for the honor his family name carried.
"The honor is mine as well." Apophis Breo returned the salute.
"Would you mind telling me about the composition of your people?" Rynar asked succinctly.
"Ah… there's nothing to hide. Among them, there was once an entire Rapid Infantry Legion… Back in my grandfather's time. But by the time it reached me, fewer than 600 remained." Apophis Breo's expression darkened.
Rynar nearly collapsed on the spot. He had never even seen a fully assembled Rapid Infantry Legion before, yet this young man's family had once possessed one?
Even though he knew this was a system-generated false memory… why did it feel so wrong? How was this kid doing better than a king?
"And then, of course, there are the knights of King's Landing, whom I assume Your Highness is most concerned about…
Unfortunately, we no longer have any knightly inheritance above the Fourth Rank.
At present, we have only sixteen knights of King's Landing, and the highest-ranked among them is merely a Grand Knight." Apophis Breo saw Rynar's expectation and felt compelled to clarify.
"I…" Rynar almost spat out blood. He hadn't had high hopes, but this level of disappointment still stung.
"You should be aware that Zaltarion men are not skilled in archery. We only have a little over a hundred Battanian Archers. After all, not many people are born with a talent for shooting." Apophis Breo shrugged.
"Well, those Battanian Archers certainly are… unique," Rynar muttered, his gut tightening as he recalled the Battle of the Lonely Mountain, where those brave archers had swung their mithril armor-piercing hammers instead of shooting arrows.
"There are some warriors as well, but many have perished along the way. We should still be able to gather some Zaltarion City Guards." Apophis Breo sighed, his voice heavy with grief and helplessness.
"The rest are all civilians. No cavalry… aside from the knights' warhorses, which we slaughtered for meat." Apophis Breo sat heavily on the ground, watching as the hopeful masses streamed into the city. His eyes shone with both joy and a profound sorrow.
"I'm sorry, Apophis… I don't want to say this, but you must understand the situation. The kingdom does not have the ability to grant a duchy right now…
We currently control only this city of Rapid Infantry and the southern Lulong Fortress. There is nowhere left for me to grant you. I'm sorry…" Rynar said apologetically.
"I understand, Your Highness. When the Northern Wall fell… the title of Duke of the King's Landing Lion was already buried in history.
But I will reclaim that title by my own merit." Apophis Breo nodded. After all, when the Northern Wall was breached, the duchies closest to it were destroyed.
According to noble law, if a nobleman failed to defend his lands or reclaim them from invaders, his title would be automatically revoked.
The Breo family had long since ceased to be a ducal house, but out of respect for their many generations of glory, others still held them in high regard.
"Sigh… I can still remember that great steel wall stretching a thousand miles between the Iron Mountains and the Eastern Ranges!
It safeguarded the people of Rune behind it… But then the Northern Wall was breached, and the empire was no more…"
Rynar was overwhelmed with emotion as he recalled the grandeur of the Northern Wall in the game—the massive structure stretching beyond the horizon, and its tragic, crumbling demise.
"It's a pity… The Northern Wall is lost. Now, all that remains are its foundations." Apophis Breo sighed softly.
"?" Rynar's senses went on high alert. What? The Northern Wall actually existed in this world?
"System? What's going on? Wasn't the Zaltarion Empire just a fabrication?" Rynar demanded urgently.
"Host must uncover the truth on his own. The answers are often right before your eyes." The system responded, as emotionless as ever.
Rynar froze, a chilling realization creeping into his mind.
What if the Zaltarion Empire had truly existed in this world? But even the elves, with their vast knowledge, were utterly clueless about it. That could only mean one thing…
The Zaltarion Empire must have perished before the First Age! Long before the elves and dwarves came into prominence!
This world had no gods—or at least, not anymore! There were no Valar or Maiar. Until now, Rynar had assumed this world was a fusion of the movie, novel, and game lore.
But now… it seemed more like a parallel dimension, one that had simply evolved differently. Did this world even have the Ainulindalë? If it did… that would be a tragedy.
"Yes! It must be a parallel dimension. Other structures would have long since crumbled under ten thousand years of erosion, but the Northern Wall, built to withstand the Northern Barbarians and the Dark Faction, must have been so indestructible that traces of it still remain…"
Rynar muttered to himself. His mind raced with countless thoughts. He suddenly felt an urge to visit the ruins of those ancient foundations, to see if he could find a way home… Perhaps that distant blue planet was truly lost to him.
"Well, whatever happens, I'll leave it to fate. At least being king isn't so bad." Rynar laughed bitterly.
Ruling over ten thousand people and governing several hundred square kilometers of land—yet due to their primitive productivity, he was living worse than a county official in his old world! What kind of joke was this? Western nobility… they were no better than village chiefs. A king in this world had fewer subjects than a county magistrate? The thought made Rynar want to laugh, but he couldn't.
"I'm tired… Arrange for everyone to rest. Gather a headcount and report to me in the morning." With a wave of his hand, Rynar walked toward the city, his enthusiasm waning.
The setting sun stretched the king's shadow ever longer, making it appear all the more desolate and lonely.
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